All Things Nice . . .

 

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Goin' home -- what lovelier word

Ever -- could be heard,

Home to warmth and firelight,

Little rooms that shine at night,

Back to the comfort of old things,

A kitchen where a kettle sings.

Goin' home -- to supper spread

Fried potatoes and home made bread,

Slippers war beside the hearth,

Loveliest spot in all the earth,

A new book and an easy chair,

Someone precious waiting there.

Goin' home -- to the place you've made

With your own hands that you wouldn't trade,

For a palace on a golden hill;

Where you've sweated and planned until

Every tree in the rooted soil

Is yours by dirst of patient toil.

Goin' home -- wih heart a-glow,

Down the old road white with snow,

There a lighted window gleams,

Sending out its golden beans,

Like a lighthouse tall and white,

Shining out against the night.

Goin' home -- what lovelier word

Ever -- ever -- has been heard?

~Edna Jacques, Goin' Home

Hills of Home, 1952

There is a certain spot when you are driving down towards the Valley from Halifax, near Avonport where all of a sudden, the Valley lays spread out in front of you. You are higher up and looking down at it and you feel like you are now truly home.  There is a special familiarity about it that gets right into your soul.

Ask anyone from the Valley and they will tell you the same.  You've just hit home when you reach this spot.  We are a special people, we  natives of the Annapolis Valley. Mom always said she felt homesick when she went West beyond Bridgetown and East beyond Wolfville. I know exactly what she meant when she said that.  It is a lonesome feeling.

 

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Home, of course, is where you hang your heart.  And it is a lot more about the feelings that reside within the walls, than it is about anything else. It is where you feel the warm-hearted hug of welcome in your soul. To some it might well be a mansion on a hill, but to others it is something else entirely.

As Airforce brats, who had no roots for many, many years, home to my brother, sister and I was always where our mother was and that only makes sense I suppose. She was our first home. Deep in her womb we first came to life and waxed strong listening to the rhythm and hymn song of her beating heart . . . 

 

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Did you know that the egg that would one day become you was actually formed while your mother was developing inside your grandmother's womb?  As were the eggs that became your daughters?

This extraordinary biological truth, known as “ovarian intergenerational continuity,” delineates the profound and physical links we share with the women who came before us, as well as those who come after us. This is a rare biological process that doesn’t just connect us to our ancestors but illustrates the complex web of continuity that sustains life. The egg that became you was formed in your grandmother’s womb, passed through your mother, and eventually became a part of you. It’s a reminder that our lives are deeply intertwined with the choices and circumstances of those who came before us.

I love that knowledge.  I come from a line of strong women, who have all weathered and born the scars of difficult lives.  It is a beautiful knowledge to know and feel this truth.

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Now here is a nice story. They are calling her Mary, "Queen of Socks." Mary Crosby, a Halifax woman has made a donation of 19,000 pairs of socks to the homeless shelters in the Halifax area, after spending a year collecting them, as well as knitting some herself. You can watch a video about it here. 

It is wonderful to read stories about people who are making a difference to the world they live in right where they stand, and that is how positive change happens. It begins right where you stand. Like throwing a pebble into a pond, the effect of practicing good deeds spreads out in ripples upon the surface.  Positive change always begins with one person wanting to make a difference.

My sister's Christmas tree has been brought indoors and this is Sully sleeping beneath it late yesterday afternoon. I don't think it is going to be truly decorated until today.  He looks quite content there beneath the tree, sleeping like a baby. He is an interesting cat.  When I was there on Sunday, he was sleeping up on top of the cupboards over the refrigerator. All you could see was his black fluffy tail and white paws dipping over the edge.  I was playing peek-a-boo with him, and he seemed to be enjoying it.

 

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Did, does, your family have a tradition of having a bowl of nuts on the coffee table at Christmas along with a nutcracker?  My family always did when I was growing up, although it was not something I really continued on when I was bringing up my own children.  Probably because of the mess.  In any case if it were not whole nuts, it was always tins of mixed nuts.  Tradition.

But where does that tradition come from? 

Many people from European countries will tell you that it’s because Saint Nicholas brings nuts and oranges and other small treats on his feast day on December 5th or 6th. In some countries, like the Netherlands, the treats are left in good children’s shoes that are left out to be filled that night. In other countries Saint Nicholas arrives at a party carrying a large sack and strews the nuts and other goodies on the floor for children to scramble after. “Scrambling for nuts” was a popular game played by rough-housing boys in Elizabethan England. But the practice of strewing nuts goes back much further than the celebration of Christmas! 

 The ancient Roman poet Virgil wrote about scattering nuts more than once. Apparently a good nut harvest was associated with the birth of more children than usual the following year so nuts became a good luck charm for fertility. They were scattered on the ground at weddings and during the winter holiday of Saturnalia and many other holidays throughout the year. Later, when the pagan holidays were folded into Christmas it was said that the three parts of the nut—the shell, skin, and kernel—represented the holy trinity or the bones, skin, and soul of the Saviour himself. 

 Whether it’s pagan or Christian, the idea of nuts bringing good luck at Christmastime appears to have stuck. In German folklore, the tradition of giving a wooden nutcracker in the form of a soldier or some other fierce authority figure was a way of keeping loved ones safe from harm. The nutcracker represented the power and strength to guard the family from evil spirits. It served the double role of plaything for children and decorative but utilitarian accompaniment to the custom of finishing dinner with pleasant conversation while passing around the nut bowl.

I remember visiting London one December when we were living down South with a missionary couple we had befriended. We went in on the train.  London was speckled with people roasting and selling chestnuts over open fires.  They sold the roasted chestnuts in small paper bags which were very warming for the hands. This really brought to life that old Christmas Song about Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. What a sweet memory this is of two people I love dearly.

 

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I got a text from my oldest son yesterday just a little bit before four pm to tell me that my grandson Luke's high school was on lockdown. My son drives him back and forth to school each day and he was sitting in his car feeling very distraught, not knowing what was going on and wanting me to pray that all would be well.  All was well in the end, they let the kids out a short time later, but for a few moments we were both very worried about what was going on.  Just a week before a youth had been arrested for carrying a concealed weapon at the school.  We live in interesting and often scary times.

I was very grateful that all of the kids were let out unharmed and that nothing was amiss.  Answered prayers.

 

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I had a night of very restless sleep last night. I just could not get my brain to stop ticking into overdrive.  So many plans of things that I want to do in the kitchen this holiday season. I couldn't stop thinking about them. I suppose that is the way with a lot of creative minds.  It is hard to stop the wheels from turning sometimes.

My sister finished her latest journal pages.  She only has a few more to fill in and this journal will be full. 

I love her journal.  She is so very talented.  I think she is at any rate.  Everything she sketches and paints looks just like the real thing.  She amazes me.

 

We went out to dinner with our dad on Wednesday night this past week. This was my sister's dinner. It was their Haddock Burger.  It looked some good.  And I guess the batter on the fish was very nice and light.

 

Dad had the BBQ chicken with mashed potatoes and vegetables. They sure gave him a lot of butter for his potatoes and vegetables. He really enjoyed it.

I had the cheeseburger with "F-rings."  F-rings are a combo of fries and onion rings.  My burger was really nice and I enjoyed the onion rings. I would enjoy the fries more if they didn't serve them pre-seasoned. I found them very salty. I prefer to season my own food really.

That restaurant seems to have settled in quite nicely after its initial growing pains. They seem to be getting things right most of the time now, which is good.  They have made some lovely renovations to the place and lately everything I have had there has been really delicious.  

There are not a lot of "family style" restaurants where I live that you can go out to supper and enjoy a good meal, reasonably prices and family friendly.  Oh, there are lots of fast-food places, like McDonalds, etc. but no real restaurants.  This place is as close as it gets.

 

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It is very cold this morning. The outside temperature is -6*C/21.2*F, but they say it feels like -10*C/14*F. It is quite chilly in here, but I am grateful that I have a home to help and keep me warm. It is a real blessing in these modern times when not everyone has a home.  I hope and pray that I never take my four walls for granted. 

I was a bit later getting up this morning and it is already a quarter to 10 so I best finish this off now. Not so newsy this week, but lack of sleep isn't helping.  I think I will be taking a nap later today to make up for it, but then I run the risk of making it difficult to sleep tonight. Its a real conundrum, lol   Says the chronic insomniac.   A good night's sleep has always been a problem for me. I think it is genetic.  We all struggle with it.

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★

 *.˛.May we raise children who love

the unloved things. The dandelions, 

the worms & spiderlings.

Children who sense the rose needs the thorn.

& run into rainswept days

the same way they turn towards the sun.

~Nicolette Sowder  ° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 

In The English Kitchen today, Chocolate Orange Rocky Road. A non-baked treat that everyone loves.  This one has the very festive flavors of a delicious chocolate orange. This is a small-batch recipe.

I hope that you have a wonderful weekend filled with lots of nice things.  Be happy and be blessed. I will catch you back here on Monday. In the meantime, enjoy your days and don't forget!

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And I do too!